


A Long Overdue Reunion

by Amerise



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Kanna/Pakku
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amerise/pseuds/Amerise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Aang and Co. helped the Northern Water Tribe against the Fire Nation Navy, Master Pakku a waterbending Master and a select few decided it was time to help their Sister Tribe on the other end of Earth. Even if it means confronting his former fiancee</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Overdue Reunion

The salty, crisp air from the sea pushes the pregnant vessel of voyagers forward towards their new destination. The ocean is calm now and out of the temperate climates as they now drove through rime and snow; icy masses floating, taller than their sail.

Ah, to many, it would be wondrously cold, but to those on board, the biting zephyr felt akin to home. Many weeks have gone by and still no sight of their sister nation. The village is not too far though.

“Master Pakku, the ripples in the waves indicates that there should be a major land mass up ahead.” The helmsman pointed out over the horizon as he address the elder Waterbending Master of the vessel.

Not too far, indeed.

“Tell the crew to keep their eyes peeled for any sign of inhabitants. The village is well hidden and small enough to miss.”

With that, the crew went bustling about to prepare for land.

_‘Kanna…it’s been so long.’_ Pakku thought to himself as he gazes out at the vast sea. 

The lookout starts to shout from the highest part of the canoe, shaking the Wasterbending Master out of his reverie.

“Ah! I see smoke drifting on the east side of the peninsula! I think we found them!”

Pakku stares out in the direction the village is supposedly at when one of his former pupil hesitantly walks up to him with a concerned look.

“Sifu Pakku, why are there no men out here to greet us?” Sangbook, a student that with many talents but not to the caliber of Katara, came along for the adventure and the prospect of meeting someone from his own nation.

“All the men that would normally greet those approaching their territory have joined the Earth Kingdom against the war. Another good reason for us to help our sister tribe in their time of need.”

Seemingly satisfied with his master’s answer, he nods and turns back toward the sails, helping the men bend water to propel them closer to their destination.

 

水水水水水水水水水水

 

Anchoring offshore, Master Pakku and a few men glide smoothly in on a smaller vessel to the water’s edge and were met with belated greetings by the curious few members of the village that could hear the horns echoing off the tundra walls heralding their arrival. The greetings, at first curious and cautious, not knowing what to expect from the new visitors yet when they recognized it was their sister tribe from the North that they were expecting - and not some unwelcome navy ship - the villagers could only rejoice at their arrival.

Pakku looked around the saw nothing but an icy desert surrounding the small barrier that protects the village, yet there stands a huge gaping hole in the middle that leads straight to the heart of it all.

This will not do. They are wide open to any sort of envision and there is no one here to protect them at all. I’m sure the men will know what to do as soon as they port.

The group of men walk along with the women of the tribe as they lead the way to their homes and the center of the village. Pakku let the young ones walk ahead of him as he observes their interaction as well as his surroundings quite closely. 

As they approach the devastated wall, Pakku’s heart couldn't help but melt at seeing so many eager faces as they walked by; especially those of the children. Many of them may have been expecting to see loved ones from the war return or even family from the North. Though they aren't quite what the tribe is expecting the welcome is none the less warm and welcoming.

The children start to gathering around the men with their inquisitive faces, asking them questions from, ‘are you here to beat the Fire Nation’ to ‘will you take us Penguin Sledging?’

‘Gee, I wonder who taught them that?’ Pakku chuckles mischievously as he walks past yet another group of children being entertained by one of his former pupil’s water bending skill. 

Pakku was looking around within the village and notice that most he the women and their children dwelled in simple tents or huts that were made out of Seal-turtle hide and other natural materials used ages ago in the North. Their main meeting structure was a basic ice igloo structure that has been deemed obsolete among the vast populations of the Northern Water Tribe Civilization. As he looks around the village, the simplicity struck him as odd, yet as he watches how the people interacted with his own men, he knew already that such a place should not be overlooked based on their rudimentary infrastructure.

_‘Despite the lack of ice-water locks, grand icy architecture and size, these people are welcoming to total strangers in a different manner than our own and don't need or rely on all the extravagant things that we take for granted on a daily basis.’ Pakku thought in reverence. ‘They can probably teach us a few things that we forgot as we advanced and grew.’_

Pakku saw an open fire pit in the middle of the square and sits to warm his hands a bit by flame. No one is around. Presumably everyone that occupied this space earlier is off welcoming the rest of his crew and left a steaming pot of stew over the fire at a low simmer. 

He reached for the top of with a gloved hand and looks at its contents, just a bit curious at to what is cooking. As soon as he lifts the top, a warm mist rose towards his peering face and instantly he recognizes the aroma.

“Umm…just like I remember it.” Pakku reminisces as he took another huge whiff before replacing the top. _‘She would always make stew or soup on biting cold days just like our mothers would. I wonder if this is her-’_

Before he could finish his thought, Pakku turns to look around at a slight tug at the base of his sleeve before looking down to find a very quizzical expression upon a young girl - no older than 4 years of age - peering us at him with finger in her mouth.

Pakku beams down at the little one and asks her, “Is there something that I may help you with, young lady?”

The little girl broke out in a toothy grin before asking a question her own.

“Um, mister?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have some stew? My mommy said I could but I need one of the older people that could reach to give it to me.”

“I'll gladly oblige.” Pakku pats the little girls head and couldn't help but smile as he looks at her. “Where may I find a ladle and bowl for the stew?”

The little girl’s wide smile broadens and then went through a series of looking blank, then of deep thought before it brightens up once again with some vigorous nodding of her head.

Still clutching onto Pakku’s parka sleeve, she leads the way expertly toward the biggest tent of the village; leaning down to her height where her grip was comfortable as she guides him and trying to keep in sync with her step.

Finally, stopping before the largest tent in the back of the village, - not too far of a journey, but it could be if you were tugged by a 4 year old - Pakku looks at the tent feeling something is constricting between his stomach and throat. Though he didn't need to ask, he _had_ to make sure.

“Whose tent does this belong to?”

“That’s Gran-Gran’s tent! She’s the oldest in the village but she makes all the best foods!” The youthful girl replies with such excitement.

“I remember.” Pakku replies unconsciously as he walks onward.

The little girl looks at him in question but proceeds to explain the situation at hand.

“I would come with you mister, but Gran-Gran doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s cooking. Believe me, I _know_. She gets mad sometimes.”

“I remember that all too well, too.” Pakku said with a slight smile as he remembers Kanna whacking his hand one instance when he was presumptuous for wanting a preemptive taste without asking. “I’ll be careful.”

“ ‘kay. I'll wait here!” She whispers out a few meters behind him as he approaches the closed tent flap.

Pakku pauses for a second as he had his hand on the flap, a flood of old memories of them growing up filters into his mind. The last time he felt this nervous about meeting her was when he presented her with the betrothal necklace so many years ago. He is once again in those shoes but for a different reason; a man now, a Master even, not a youth in love. Taking a few deep breaths, Pakku opens the flap and tentatively peeks inside.

The tent is dark, yet warmer than the outside temperature because of the flames within. His nose is instantly inundated by the aromas emanating from within the pots around the tent, reminding him of food he hasn't eaten since the beginning of their long voyage south. His vision is obscured by the darkness as well as the steam clouding the atmosphere within the enclosure yet he saw a swaying figure humming to herself in one corner stirring something in front of her.

Pakku felt the jitters again as he tries to straighten himself out and as he was about to speak, a voice rang clearer.

“Sora, I thought I told you and the others not to disturb me while I am cooking. I have a large batch of turtle-seal stew as well as herring-tuna jerky to be mindful of. Go back outside and play.” Kanna stated with a firm voice, not once looking up or halting her task, but continues to hum as soon as she was done with her lecture.

‘Always the stern voice of authority, especially in the kitchen.’ Pakku thinks to himself as he fully opens the flap and lets himself in.

“She only wants a ladle for the stew that is simmering deliciously outside.” Pakku manages to say calmly.

Pakku instantly heard her put down the large ceramic bowl and turns around from it to face him. Still clutching the ladle, she squints to see if her ears were playing tricks on her but shock was apparent in her eyes as she realizes it was no trick.

A weathered hand flew to her mouth in confusion as she looked upon the man that stood in her doorway; taking the place of the boy that she was once promised to all 60 years ago. 

“I can't believe it…Pakku.”

“Kanna.” Pakku finally manages to say as he looked at the love of his life from so long ago. Though now, an aged shell of a woman encompasses the girl he was once to marry, yet her eyes still shone with the same vibrancy and exuberance, only with more stories of the life she led without him.

They stared at each other for a few moments before either one made any move. Looking at each other, not as the Southern Water Tribe’s Eldest nor the Northern Water Tribe’s Waterbending Master, but as once true childhood friends, kinsman and possible lovers.

“Kanna, I-” Pakku started but didn't know where to go from there.

He watches as a range of emotions play upon her face like a ripple upon still water - from the same nostalgia probably displayed earlier - then, all the emotions in between that and anger as the final wave of a tsunami that crashes down upon her.

Without warning, the ladle flew in his direction and nails him square in the middle of the forehead, leaving a nice round red mark in its wake.

“I can see where Katara gets her temper from.”

Anticipating that _that_ was probably not the smartest comment to make at a very irate Water Tribe Elder, he has enough sense to duck and back away from the tent just in case the earthenware bowl come his way as well. Unfortunately for him, as he was turning his back and leaving the tent completely, a small bowl comes flying, true to its aim and smacks the back of the Waterbending Master’s head.

Little Sora watches the whole ordeal from the sidelines and as she sees the kind old man exiting out of the tent with a new red swelling forming on his forehead as well as him holding the utensils needed for the task of serving soup. She quickly runs up with such an eager face before asking him the only obvious question a 4 year old can think of in a situation such as these.

“Where’s your bowl?”

As if on cue, a bowl comes flying out of the tent but luckily for him, he knew that was coming and bends the snow to create a soft barrier for the assaulting cookware, willing it to land perfectly with in grasp.

He gingerly hands a bowl to her, too indignant to acknowledge that anything out of the norm happened and guides the little girl towards the steaming stew; Little Sora watching the whole exchange in awe and wonder.

As he ladles the delicious substance into her bowl first, then his own, they both settle by the fire and the bright little 4 year old chimes in: “I told you she would be mad.” She giggles as she gazes at the welt forming at the center of the Waterbending Master‘s forehead.

“Child, you don‘t know the extent of it.” he said as he dug in warily.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally had planned to make a 5 part series out of this one shot but we'll see if I decide to continue to add more. If I do add on to this it may just be two different scenarios of what happened to Kanna when she left the Northern Water Tribe. If I do post something, I'll post story one in its entirety and then story after the first one is complete.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
